


A hell of a coincidence

by soididthisthing



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: FTM, Friendship, Gen, Original Character(s), That post-drift talk, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans!Newt, always ends positive, but not being defined by them, coz it gets better dudes, misc trans frustrations, more characters to be tagged as they appear, trans!Hermann
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:39:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soididthisthing/pseuds/soididthisthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ficlets where Newt and Hermann are both trans. Fairly fluffy, though there is exploration of trans issues. More focused on Hermann than Newt, dunno if that will change.</p><p>Chapter 1: Post-drift. Newt confronts Hermann about being trans in the helicopter ride back to the Shatterdome.<br/>Chapter 2: A week after the Breach is closed. Newt asks Hermann about Vanessa.<br/>Chapter 3: That story-swapping conversation that 2 trans dudes will inevitably ALWAYS have.<br/>Chapter 4: The one in which Hermann is confronted with the fact that people may find him attractive<br/>Chapter 5: Newt and Hermann find their wikipedia articles have rather personal details. There is an argument.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A hell of a coincidence

**Author's Note:**

> Not my headcanon at all, more a distant AU, but I felt compelled anyway BECAUSE REASONS.
> 
> Inspired by conversations where the other party was all, "if there was a trans character in PacRim, it'd totally be Newt," to which I was, "WAT. LET ME SUGGEST TO YOU A THING." My Newt is one of those lucky kids who transitioned in his teens. Hermann, much later because his dad was a nightmare. 
> 
> Not sure how many chapters this will be. No real plot, these are just vignettes that touch on trans issues, but are not solely about trans issues. Just how the movie wasn't just about Giant Robots.

The first five minutes of the helicopter ride back to the Shatterdome were spent in spontaneous, breathless conjecture about the best way to seal The Breach. The two doctors leaned in towards each other, gesturing broadly and practically tripping over their words to finish each other's sentences. Their voices steadily rose in volume until they shouted out a conclusion in unison.

It was a brilliant and simple solution. The best kind.

  
The apocalypse hypothetically averted, a heavy silence quickly blanketed the two men as they began to dwell upon what each had seen in The Drift. And what the other may have seen.

Newt glanced over his shoulder at their pilot; she was too focused to pay any attention to her passengers and probably couldn’t hear them anyway with all the radio chatter going on. He sat back with a *fwump* and began to drum his fingers on his knee in time with the helicopter’s rotor blades. He cocked his head to look at Gottlieb, who was now sitting stiffly upright, head turned to gaze out the window.

Newt inhaled sharply, about to speak, then held his breath as he saw the mathematician wince slightly. Newt noisily exhaled in exasperation, nearly losing the bloodied Kleenex up his nose that was stemming the flow of the evening’s consequences. He continued to tap an agitated staccato.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

 _Oh, fuck it_ , Newt thought, _it's now or never_.

He inhaled again, and looked up at the ceiling. "You know... during our Drift, I couldn't help but notice..."

"There was _nothing_ to notice," Gottlieb snapped, still looking out into the rain.

Newt scrubbed a hand through his matted hair in frustration.

"Dude, chill, ok?" He forced his voice to be low and calm. "I won't bring it up again, if that's what you want, I _swear_. I will happily give you your own “ _shut the fuck up, Newt_ ” card that never ever expires, if you would just listen to me for _2 minutes_ right now."

Silence.

"Please," he added as an afterthought.

Gottlieb clenched his jaw but said nothing.

Newt nodded to himself. He had learned to gauge Hermann’s scale of _crotchety grump_ to _belligerent asshole_ over the last decade and knew the other man was listening, albeit grudgingly.

"As I was saying,” Newt spread his hands, “I couldn't help but notice we're a lot more alike than we probably could have ever thought..." he shifted his gaze to look squarely at his lab partner, "...especially from a, um, biological perspective...".

Newt gestured broadly now, waving both hands up and down in an arc from his chest to his lap, hoping Hermann got the hint. He _really_ hoped he didn't have to spell it out; Hermann was so fucking skittish sometimes and this conversation was already weird enough as it was.

Gottlieb blinked in surprised realization. “You? Really?”

He turned his head towards Newt, but was still unable to look him in the eye. He stared at his shoes, instead, which were caked with dirt and unidentifiable kaiju viscera.

"Seriously, Hermann, you didn't notice that rather _important_ little detail in the 4-D movie trailer of my life?"

Newt noticed the other man's ears start to turn red, and he tried to control the grin that was tugging at the corner of his mouth. Delicate topic or not, there was something endearing about an embarrassed Hermann.

"To be honest, no." said Hermann quietly. He fidgeted with his cane. "There didn't seem to be anything in your memories that would indicate the..." he furrowed his brow, struggling to find a suitable word, "...fallout typical of dealing with this _condition_. I never would have guessed. You always seemed so content."

Newt barked out a laugh. “Dude, you're completely ignoring my various bipolar adventures. I know _you_ know I’m on meds for that. Don’t pretend you’re the only one with problems or that no one will ever understand you.”

Hermann just shrugged.

Newt didn’t need the Drift to read between the lines. _You were accepted by your family; I was not. You moved forward and lived your life; I tried, but I'm stuck without a future._

The poor bastard. So many of the little puzzle pieces that made up Dr. Hermann Gottlieb suddenly clicked into place. The clothes, the body language, the little affectations... how many barriers had he erected over the years to keep people from getting close to him?

Newt’s heart raced a little at a borrowed memory of a crisp winter day outside a sprawling palatial estate, the storybook atmosphere ruined by Gottlieb the Elder, a great bear of a man, shouting angrily at him and making an elaborate demonstration of emptying a bundle of books and clothing into a makeshift bonfire.

That kind of rejection was all very foreign to Newt, who would have been open about all this from day one, had he known. It just never even _occurred_ to him to disclose anything, his own transition a done deal well before starting college. Newt,  _himself,_ even forgot, sometimes, that he wasn’t always the way he was now.

He allowed himself a brief moment to admire the bravery Hermann displayed when choosing to Drift with him. And he knew why Hermann was so immediately and violently ill afterwards -- open vulnerability was probably his worst fear and you don’t get much more open than the Drift; Newt bet Hermann would rather be eaten by a Kaiju under any other circumstances.

Newt cleared his throat, noticing his partner’s carefully neutral expression. "Well, it's a hell of a coincidence, don't ya think?"

"Indeed."

"Kind of funny we both never knew, considering how long we've worked with each other." Newt noticed the flush had spread to Hermann’s cheeks.

"If you say so."

Newt sighed. "Ok, man, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."

"Thank you," said Hermann in a strained voice, but without the edge that usually signaled a total shut-down.

Newt couldn’t resist having the last word. Or phrase. Fine, short paragraph.

"Buuuttt..." Hermann rolled his eyes, but didn't interrupt. "You do know that, as the PPDC’s numero uno biologist, I'm able to get my hands on nearly any compounds I want, including those that conveniently match certain prescriptions that are very difficult to refill this day and age..."

Newt had recalled another memory that wasn't his: a tiny vial of oily liquid being carefully rationed.

Hermann sat very still.

"You'd...” He looked up at Newton, finally meeting his gaze. “You'd do that for me?"

Newt grinned broadly, the choice of words not lost on him. "I'd do that _with_ you, my man. You know how bad I am at remembering to take _any_ of my meds. You're the dates and planning guy -- I could use your help keeping me on track! Deal?”

Hermann nodded curtly, and Newt noticed there was the spectre of a smile on his friend’s face.

"Deal."

They had arrived at the Shatterdome, the helicopter beginning its descent. Newt rose to his feet and offered Hermann a helping hand up, who took it gratefully.

"C'mon, dude, we're about to become rockstars! Let's go save the world!"

 

\----------------  
EPILOG  
\----------------

It was the Monday after the breach had closed and at 7am, Hermann had arrived early to the lab. Even with the threat of the kaiju no longer looming over them, there was still so much to do. He suspected he'd easily be spending the next 10 years reverse engineering anteverse technology and working out a model for how their aggressor's dimension worked.

He flicked on the lights and frowned slightly in confusion when he noticed a small package on his desk. He set aside the stack of paperwork he'd brought with him and gingerly picked up the box.

It was wrapped in what looked like a collection of Chinese takeout menus. **TOTALLY NOT KAIJU ENTRAILS FOR SERIOUS** was scrawled in what must have been one of Newt's whiteboard markers.

Hermann sighed and gave the package a tentative shake. Satisfied he couldn't hear any squishing noises and that nothing was leaking, he sat down and opened it.

He pulled out a bright orange card. Scribbled in the same wild hand was, " _UNLIMITED FREE USES: 'Shut the fuck up, Newt'_." A little caricature of the biologist with a duct tape "X" over his mouth was doodled in the corner. Hermann flipped the card over to confirm his suspicion that Newt had cannibalized it from the community Monopoly game.

He looked at the rest of the contents of the package. In it were three small amber-colored glass vials, numerous individually wrapped syringes, assorted swabs, and a recently-dated prescription receipt signed by the shatterdome's physician.

Hermann leaned back in his chair and considered the little orange card again. With a lopsided smile, he tore it in half, dropping the pieces neatly in the wastebasket. He carefully closed the box, tucking it away in his desk drawer, then grabbed a piece of chalk, ready to begin the day's work.


	2. One of the best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt asks Hermann about Vanessa. Hermann explains, which includes how he once tried to withdraw his PPDC application.

_[ One week after The Breach has been closed ]_

 

The door to the lab was kicked open as Dr. Newt Geiszler made his entrance. His arms were wrapped around a large crate, two clipboards precariously balanced on the top. They slid from side to side as he turned to kick the door back shut.  

Hermann Gottlieb didn't so much as pause his typing at his computer, though he did glance at the other scientist over the top of his reading glasses with mild disapproval. "You're late. It's a quarter after ten."  

"You're the premier mind in predictive modeling, Hermann, and you _still_ haven't figured out yet that I never come in at nine?"  

Hermann snorted. "I suspect no amount of applied mathematics will ever be able to pinpoint your schedule, Dr. Geiszler." He looked at the crate with mild interest. "More Kaiju remains, I gather?"  

"Yep, salvaged from the city, score!"  

"Something untouched by Chau's gang? I'm shocked."  

"Well, I guess if you cut off the beast's head, yadda, yadda, yadda.." Newt grunted as he set the crate down by his dissecting table. He grabbed one of the clipboards off the top and walked over to where Hermann was working.  

"Here, man, we've got more paperwork to do."  

Hermann pinched the bridge of his nose. "I honestly can't believe so much data was corrupted in that EMP blast that we've had to resort to paper forms in this day and age. It's borderline barbaric. What's next, cuneiform and stone tablets?"  

Newt looked pointedly at the chalkboards on Hermann's side of the lab and then back to his partner as he offered the clipboard. Hermann grabbed it from Newt's hands with a huff and set it down next to him on the console. "So, what is it this time?"  

"Meh, just HR stuff it looks like," Newton shrugged as he walked back to his station. "Updates to contact info, all that junk. Though I never remember updating this crap. I guess some of the pencil-pushers need to justify their jobs now that we're out of crisis mode."  

Hermann resumed his typing and looked archly up at his screen. "God forbid the triumphant salvation of the world temporarily stops the cogs of bureaucracy from spinning."  

Newt laughed. "No kidding! You should have seen all the bullshit forms I had to fill out for this." He tapped the top of his crate with a crowbar.  

The scientists fell into a pleasant silence as they worked, Hermann still at his PC and Newt enthusiastically removing samples from the now-open crate.  

"So...." Newt piped up casually, depositing a particularly interesting slice of what looked to be a lung in a dissection tray. "Who's Vanessa?"  

Gottlieb froze, hands hovering over his keyboard. "What?"  

Newt nodded at the clipboard by the mathematician's elbow. "Sorry, I caught a glance at your form and noticed the name under 'Next of Kin'. She your sister or something?"  

Gottlieb grabbed the clipboard and frantically began flipping through the attached papers.  

Newt gave him a concerned, slightly panicked look. He felt like Hermann should be yelling at him right now, and the fact that he wasn't was terrifying.  

"Uh, dude, I'm sorry, I just caught it out of the corner of my eye. I didn't mean to--"  

Hermann sighed and put the clipboard back on the console, face down. He carefully removed his reading glasses and pulled out a handkerchief to clean the lenses with a trembling hand.  

"It's quite all right, Newton."  

"No it isn't! I fucked up again, didn't I?"  

Hermann smiled wryly. "This may surprise you, but the fault is completely my own..."  

\--------------------- 

 

 _[ October 2014 ]_  

 

The first thing he noticed after waking up was the whiteboard of patients' names on the wall opposite his bed. At the top, in large, red letters was GOTTLIEB, VANESSA. He had finally been transferred to a normal, private room after a sequence of emergency surgeries and this is what greeted him. It was infuriating, the sheer number of times he had reminded the hospital staff that the name was incorrect, _never mind what was on his ID, would they please change it_. They would by the second or third request, but it would inevitably revert the next time he was moved.  

Hermann groaned and pulled the covers over his head, trying to shut out the world. His pain had become manageable after an excruciating few weeks, and without the effects of opiates clouding his brain, or math to busy it, he was left with his own dark thoughts.  

It had been a car accident. Drunk driver. It seemed lots of people had become more prone to drink since the Kaiju attacks.  

He looked forlornly at his left leg, which was encased in an amalgam of metal scaffolding and plaster. He groaned again. He'd had a congenital deformity in that leg and doctors had warned him he'd be looking at hip and knee surgery by the time he was 40. Now it looked like someone pressed the fast-forward button on his life and gone a little too far.  

A lot too far, really. Hermann wondered if he'd even be able to walk again. The doctors had been optimistic he'd eventually only need the assistance of a cane, but optimism had never been one of Hermann's strong points.  

He thought about his PPDC application and the minimum physical requirements needed to join. He'd already fudged some of his paperwork, promising himself that he'd get his personal affairs, such as his official name change, all in order before the app was finalized. He still remembered how his heart had lept some weeks ago at the official email he had received stating he'd made the final cut and that Marshall Pentecost had taken a direct interest in his predictive modeling work.  

But once he was allowed access to a laptop, Hermann withdrew the application. He couldn't fudge the fact he was now most certainly permanently disabled and unqualified to join.  

That was over two weeks ago. He looked at the whiteboard again, scowling fiercely at the red letters that seemed to mock him. He'd gotten so far on his own, only to be rejected yet again. If he was able to walk again, the first thing he'd do was erase that damnable name.  

He heard a strong voice from the hallway. "Excuse me, I'm looking for a Dr. Hermann Gottlieb."  

"We have a Gottlieb in room 177..."  

"Thank you."  

Hermann's eyes widened and he stretched painfully to grab the jumper that was mercifully folded over the bar on the side of the hospital bed. He hastily pulled it over his head and tried to flatten down his hair. He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the tracest amount of stubble on the sides of his cheeks, but knew he probably looked liked a 12 year old boy who had just gotten his tonsils removed. It was maddening.  

There was a polite knock on the doorframe. Hermann glanced at the whiteboard and swallowed hard. "Come in," he said, his voice cracking.  

Marshall Stacker Pentecost was quite possibly everything Hermann Gottlieb wished he could be. Strong, intelligent, brave, and cooly confident. He cut an imposing figure in the doorway and suddenly Hermann felt very, very small. He closed his eyes as he fought back a sudden wave of nausea.  

When he opened them again, Pentecost was standing at foot of the hospital bed, the whiteboard to his back. If he'd noticed the name, he gave no indication.  

"I trust you are on your way to recovery, Doctor?" Pentecost asked congenially.  

"I- I, yes, sir, they say I'll be home by Christmas. But I don't understand why you're here."  

"You've been ignoring my emails. I'm here to personally ask you to reconsider the withdrawal of your application to the PPDC."  

"Sir? I, I fear I may have, ah, misrepresented myself on the original application and now I most certainly don't qualify due to..." he gestured feebly at his leg. Not just his leg, he thought. _Everything_. 

"I see." Pentecost crossed his arms over his chest. "I will admit I am extremely disappointed." 

Hermann bowed his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I never should have applied in the first place, it was all a mistake." His voice continued to pop and crack and he blinked back a frustrated tear. 

"I require a higher level of self-confidence from members of my team. That is something I expect you to work on."  

"Sir?"  

Pentecost's expression softened and he leaned over the bed to better look Gottlieb directly in the eye.

"You are more than your body, Mr. Gottlieb. To lose you would be to lose the contributions of no less than three of the best of men, and the world cannot afford that."  

"Yes, sir," whispered Hermann, wide-eyed.  

"Then I will personally mark your application as approved and have you assigned to the Los Angeles Shatterdome. You should have your transfer orders by the time your convalescence is complete."  

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" Hermann tossed off an awkward salute, instantly regretting it. _Oh, God, why on earth did I just do that, I'm not a soldier-_   

Pentecost straightened to attention and smartly returned the salute. "Welcome to the Corps, Mr. Gottlieb."  

As the Marshall left the room, Hermann's eye was once more caught by the bright red lettering on the white board. Only now, it simply read GOTTLIEB.

 ---------------------

 

 

"He was a good man," said Newt, now seated in a spare chair next to Gottlieb.  

"One of the best," agreed Hermann.  

"I dunno, he seemed to think the same of you."  

Hermann looked down, embarrassed at the compliment. Newt punched him playfully on the shoulder.  

"Ok, but that still doesn't explain how your old name got put down as your next of kin."  

Hermann shrugged. "A well-meaning clerical error. My personal paperwork was still a mess by the time I arrived at the Shatterdome and the clerks tried to reconcile the discrepancies in names as best as possible, unaware of the real story. It's my fault for never getting it fixed. I guess if I ignored it long enough, it would go away" he chuckled, but without any trace of bitterness.  

"Well, you can fix that easily now."  

"Mmmm hmmm. In theory, yes, but given my current, er, relationship with my family..."  

"You could put me down! They really just use that field as an emergency contact."  

"Newton, don't be ridiculous."  

Newt deflated a little.  

"If something dire happened to me, I've no doubt you'd already by be my side."  

Newt re-inflated a lot.  

"Because whatever the calamity, it would most certainly be _entirely your fault_."  

Newt laughed and gave Hermann a shove this time, almost knocking him out of his chair. "You're such an asshole, you know that?"  

Hermann smirked. "One of the best?"  

Newt grinned. "Absolutely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, sorry Vanessa shippers. This is an AU, all bets are off! The idea just amused me too much, heh.
> 
> Newt doesn't know Hannibal isn't dead, sshhh.
> 
> I like to think that canon!Pentecost had a similar talk to canon!Hermann about how he should not be defined by his disability.


	3. Always time to talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Hermann end up having that story-swapping conversation that 2 trans dude will inevitably ALWAYS have.

_[ First New Year's Eve post-Breach ]_

The Shatterdome library was actually quite pleasant, if on the small side. Because they so often got cannibalized for use elsewhere in the compound, there were no computers. Consequently, hardly anyone visited. There were just several tall shelves of real, honest-to-God-made-with-paper books, and some comfortable, if threadbare armchairs.

Hermann had settled in for the evening with a mathematics journal he'd recently discovered. With outside civilian life slowly returning to normal, he was able to have it regularly delivered to the Shatterdome. He considered it a guilty pleasure, but he was sure Newton would disapprove, as it related to work. He could just hear his voice saying-

"Hermann, what are you doing here? Not in the mood for partying?"

The mathematician sighed. What were the odds. He made a show of turning a page, still keeping his gaze on the journal. "You know I'm always in the mood for a gathering. And that mood lasts for precisely 3 minutes once I've arrived."

Newt snickered.

Hermann tilted his head up to look at the other man. "The question is, what are YOU doing here? Shouldn't Tendo be DJing by now, playing, as you say, the songs of your people?"

Newton upgraded his snicker to a giggle. But quickly, his expression turned contemplative and he shrugged.

"Ehn, yeah, but I felt there was something missing. Or rather, _someone_..."

"Oh, don't get maudlin on me, Newton," Hermann flicked his wrists and straightened the pages of his journal with a loud *snap*, "the sentimentality of the holiday season is bad enough without you adding to it."

"Ugh, that's just like you to push me away, Mr. Scrooge."

Hermann rolled his eyes. "And yet you still come back."

"Well, _excuuuuse_ me for thinking Dr. Hermann Gottlieb is an interesting person who might want a little company outside of the lab from time to time! Especially on New Year's Eve!" He held up two glasses and a nearly full bottle of champagne he'd smuggled out of the mess hall, theatrically swirling its contents.

Hermann sighed, but allowed himself a small smile. He set down the journal. "I appreciate the offer, Newton, but you know I don't drink."

"Dude, why not? Afraid you're going to spill an embarassing, deep, dark secret about your past life to your Drift-compatible lab partner?"

Gottlieb narrowed his eyes.

"Give me the bottle and a glass."

  
_[ 2 hours later ]_

There was another round of laughter as Hermann took his turn again to speak up.

"Well, I had hair down to my _waist_! I cut it all off when I turned 18 to spite my father."

Both doctors had migrated to sitting on the floor next to each other, leaning against a cushioned arm chair.

"Ha, I always knew you cut your own hair."

Hermann spluttered in mock indignation.

"You should have seen the fake tattoos I would draw on myself when I was six! I had this brief, but very intense obsession with being a biker dude."

"I imagine they were much better than what you have now."

Newt elbowed his partner. "Ass."

Hermann grinned into his champagne flute. The two men sat in an amiable silence for several minutes.

"This is nice," Newt said.

Hermann gave a sort of non-commital noise, his eyelids starting to droop.

"No, I'm serious. I'm going to say something and promise you won't hit me, ok?"

Silence.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes'."

Newt slowly twirled his glass in his hands, occassionally flicking the side to dislodge a small droplet.

"I'm really proud of you, man. I know some of these conversations can't be easy for you, but it means a lot that you feel comfortable enough with me to talk about this stuff."

Still silence. Newt looked over at Hermann. The older man had fallen asleep.

"Dammit, Hermann!"

Hermann's eyes flicked open in alarm. "What?!"

Newt sighed. "Nothing, you fucking light-weight." He rose a little unsteadily to his feet, but quickly found his balance. "Let's get you up and back to your quarters."

"Were you saying something? I appear to have nodded off..."

"Naw, it's cool man." Newt smiled and extended a helping hand. "There's always time to talk later."

"Yes, talk," said Hermann, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. "I'm finding I quite rather like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could have easily been longer, as I recall every congenial "pissing match" I've gotten into with other trans guys. It's a little bit our version of "walked uphill both ways" old-timer-style talk.


	4. Just be prepared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait, what, some people find Hermann attractive?

_[ Herc Hansen's office, mid-summer, post-Breach ]_

  
" _ **INTERNS!?**_ ", shouted the doctors in unison.

They began speaking over each other.

"Kaiju specimens are _extremely_ delicate, we can't just have-"  
"-me double checking some wet-behind-the-ears grad student's equations as if I were their _algebra teacher_!"

"GENTLEMEN!" shouted Marshall Hercules Hansen. He leaned wearily against his desk and glared at the mollified pair a few seconds longer than was comfortable. Then he sighed.

"Gentlemen, this is a new era and it's critical I keep our funding secure when there are no more kaiju to fight -"

"You're assuming they won't come back" piped up Newt.

Herc's expression could have frozen the sun. Newt audibly snapped his mouth shut.

"-and the general public feels we have outlived our usefulness. Which means corporate partnerships. Higher education is very lucrative and the universities are beating down our door."

"But we're already doing speaking tours," whined Newt.

"I'm afraid that's not enough. The universities are looking to establish a long-term presence within the PPDC."

Hermann grimaced.

Herc held up his hands in apology. "I'm not asking you to babysit -- it isn't like you'll be getting teenagers. Our first two official interns already hold doctorates and are ages 23 and 24. Not too much younger than you two were when you joined the Corps, if I recall. Consider their tenure here more of a residency."

"How many doctorates," grumbled Newt, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Just one each, for now, but they are both working very hard towards additional degrees. But we should also consider their time here as potential screening for future employment. There's still years of cleanup and restoration work ahead of us and we can always use new blood." Herc turned to pickup two manila folders that were behind him on his desk. He gave each man a folder.

"Dr. Gottlieb, you will be overseeing Mercedes DeLeon. She is an astrophysicist interested in specializing in the physics of the anteverse and of course, The Breach."

"Newt, you'll work with Tristan Gerber. He's a biochemist who has been studying Kaiju Blue and new ways to cleanup and neutralize it, especially in the oceans."

"Now, if you two can promise to at least be _polite_ to our new revenue stream, you are dismissed."

  
\----------------

 

The interns arrived via helicopter the next week. Hermann and Newt watched them step out onto the helipad, each wide-eyed and a little shaky on their legs. Clearly, they were unused to this mode of transportation. The scientists shared a knowing look, remembering their first trip to a Shatterdome.

Leading the way was the biochemist, Tristan. He was lanky with slicked back blonde hair and a neatly-trimmed goatee. He was wearing a sharply-pressed grey hounds-tooth suit that was an unfortunate one size too small. He was struggling to wheel three large rolling suitcases that continually threatened to tip over.

Behind him was an olive-skinned young woman with dark hair and eyes. She was dressed much more casually than her companion, choosing to wear selvage jeans and a simple black sweater. She had a travelworn leather carry-on bag slung across her shoulder. Newt noticed immediately that her left nostril was pierced. He glanced over at Hermann, who wasn't paying him any attention and had an unreadable expression on his face.

Newt walked forward and extended a hand towards the tall young man. "Wie geht es Ihnen? Sprechen sie Deutsch?"

The biochemist furrowed his brow and looked in alarm from Newt to Hermann, then back to Newt. "Uh... n-no, sir, I'm not even German."

Newt tilted his head. "But you have, like, the Germanist of German names, dude."

The intern sighed. "I'm of Spanish descent. Really. It's complicated."

Newt laughed and clapped the young man on the back, having to stand a little on his tip-toes to do so. "We like complicated around here! C'mon, let me help you with your luggage and show you to the _cool_ side of the lab..."

  
Hermann stepped forward to meet his charge.

"Welcome, Dr. DeLeon." he said in what he hoped was a pleasant manner.

The woman beamed at him. "Please! Call me Meche." She offered her hand. Hermann clasped it after a moment's hesitation. She had a firm handshake and smiled brightly, looking him warmly in the eyes.

"Don't tell me _you're_ German," piped up Newt from behind, as he took two of the suitcases from Tristan. Meche gave a sparkling laugh as Hermann just rolled his eyes.

He looked back at his intern.

"That's rather informal, don't you think?" He glanced over her shoulder and noticed Newt shaking his head in disapproval. "Er, but I suppose that is often the norm around here. I would still prefer if you referred to me as Dr. Gottlieb, despite what my partner may suggest."

"Of course!" she bowed her head slightly and blushed.

Hermann cleared his throat. "I've been reading up on your anteverse hypotheses. While there are a few flaws, I'm quite impressed with the conclusions you were able to extrapolate with so little data."

"Oh, thank you! I've been inspired by your work for years; even your doctoral dissertation was incredibly brilliant and indispensable for predicating early Kaiju attacks."

"You do me an honor, Doct- er, Meche."

"It's an honor to be here."

Hermann wasn't quite sure what to say in response to that, so he said nothing as the four of them walked back to the lab.

  
\----------------

  
The day passed fairly quickly, what with all the orientation and introductions that needed to be done. When six o'clock rolled around, Tristan excused himself under the pretense of lingering air-sickness. Meche remained another three hours while Hermann and Newton caught up with work.

Noticing it was already nine in the evening, she piped up with a barely audible, "oh!" and began to collect the day's various printouts.

Hermann raised an eyebrow from where he was seated at his desk. "There's no need to do tidy up, I can take care of that."

Meche blushed. "I was thinking I should maybe take a little reading back to my room. You know, so I can hit the ground running tomorrow."

Hermann blinked, pleasantly surprised at the intern's initiative. "Well, in that case," he opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a small spiral-bound volume, "here's a report that may fill you in on recent developments."

He handed it to her. She beamed. "Thank you Dr. Gottlieb! I look forward to reading this." She looked over at Newt, who was wiping off various dissecting implements and putting them into the autoclave. "And goodnight to you, too, Newt!" The biologist looked up and gave a little wave with a gloved hand.

She looked over once more at Hermann, flashed her bright smile, and left to go find the mess hall.

Hermann watched her go.

After the door had closed shut, Newt spoke up from across the room. "Dude, she is _sooo_ into you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermann huffed. "She's simply a colleague that, unlike _some_ , can recognize the value of my work."

"Uh huh." The biologist punctuated his next words as he tossed three remaining tongs into the autoclave.

"Totally." _plink_  
"Into." _plink_  
"You." _plink_

Hermann gave Newt a Look.

"That's absurd."

"Why?"

"It just is." Hermann stood up from his chair and walked towards the lab exit.

"Oh, no no no no. I'm not letting you get away that easily." Newt sprinted after him as the door was shutting.

Hermann attempted to quicken his pace to his quarters, but there was no way he was going to outrun Newt.

Newt caught up and began walking backwards next to Hermann. "It's cute, you've got this whole Professor Jones thing going on with her."

"What?"

"Indiana Jones? Archaeologist professor, guy with a the hat and whip, hated Nazis? You did grow up in the 90s and not the 40s like you make it seem, right?"

Hermann snorted. "I know fully well who Indiana Jones is. But I'm hardly Harrison Ford."

Newt shrugged amiably. "Ok, fair enough, but I know for a fact there are no less than a dozen people in the Shatterdome who find you attractive."

Hermann stopped dead in his tracks. He spluttered, "How - how on earth do you... how is _that even a statistic_?!"

Newt swallowed and gave an apologetic smile. "Uh... Tendo told me?"

"Tendo." Hermann looked pointedly at the biologist.

Newt held up his hands in mock defense. "Dude's got his finger on the pulse of this place! He didn't name names, but if he says it's true, it's true."

Hermann stared for a moment. "Twelve people."

"Well, thirteen now, I guess with Meche."

"Twelve," repeated Hermann, bluntly.

Newt sighed in exasperation. "Yes, twelve. Ten chicks, two dudes, if I recall."

"I -" Hermann blinked. "Men, too?"

Newt grinned stupidly. "Why, is that a problem?"

"Well, no, I... it just never occurred to me."

"What, that people may actually _want_ to have a relationship with you?" Newt poked a finger at Hermann. "Sparkling personality aside, when you actually bother to smile, you do all right in the looks department. In a sort of tweed-wearing Frog Prince kind of way."

Hermann rubbed his left temple with his free hand. "Please don't tell me that name is a thing."

"Ok, I won't tell you."

Hermann groaned.

"Why was this _even_ a topic of discussion between you two."

"Because we care about you, dude!"

"Hmmph. Sometimes I think my life was easier when you _didn't_ care."

Newt threw up his hands. "You wound me, good sir!"

They continued down the hallway, Hermann no longer attempting to outpace his lab partner, until they approached the fork where they would split off each to his own quarters.

Newt spoke first. "Alright, man, g'night. Sorry if I was a little shit. I'll try to tell Tendo to tone it down."

"Don't trouble yourself with such a Herculean effort, Newton. It's fine. Goodnight."

  
\----------------

  
Later that evening, as he got ready for bed, Hermann thought back to an old conversation he had with his mother, the last night he'd stayed under his parents' roof.

 

"I don't understand why you'd want to do this to yourself."

" _Mother_ , we've been over this..."

"Your father doesn't approve, you know."

"Oh, I think he's made that _very_ clear."

"You won't reconsider?"

"Given the alternatives? No."

"But, I thought you wanted to join the PPDC."

"I still do, I don't see how-"

"Just be prepared they may not want you. Nor anyone else, if you're thinking about personal relationships. You used to be so pretty..." She sighed and tried to touch Hermann's face. He flinched and recoiled backwards with a hurt look.

"I am leaving now, mother. If I've left any of my things, do with them whatever you want. I have everything I need."

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your father?"

"No."

 

  
Hermann sat half-undressed for several long moments on the edge of his bed. Then he shook his head as a shy smile spread across his face. 

 _Thirteen_ people? Goodness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst, Hermann, dude, I'll bet it's a lot more than thirteen, I'm just sayin'...
> 
> Anyway. Bullshit borne of fear and concern is still bullshit. I hope anyone who was fed the same line as Hermann's mother has learned that it simply is not true.


	5. It blew my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann and Newt find they're on Wikipedia. An argument ensues.

_[ late summer, post-Breach ]_

Hong Kong was bouncing back. Nearly a year after Leatherback and Otachi had attacked, the city was finally beginning to resume a normal pace. There were changes, of course. Planned blackouts in the non-housing regions were a routine inconvenience in order to reduce the stress on the city's still-struggling infrastructure. But even those evening hours without power had its benefits.

"That should do it, come take a look, Dr. Gottlieb."

Dr. Mercedes "Meche" de Leon, one of the Shatterdome's first K-Science interns, stepped back from the battered old telescope she had positioned on the harbor boardwalk.

Hermann furrowed his brow in concentration as he peered through the eyepiece. "No, I'm not sure I can see anyth-" then he gasped.

"You see them, right?" Meche asked excitedly.

"Yes, yes I do!" he broke into a grin.

"And if you focus your eyes just right, you can also see the Great Red Spot!"

Hermann's smile got wider. "There it is!" He looked up and squinted against the night sky. "I must admit, I've seen countless hi-res images of Jupiter, but not once "in the flesh", as it were, via a simple telescope."

Meche clasped her hands. "Isn't it amazing? Every time I look at Jupiter and her moons this way, I think back to how Galileo must have felt when he finally had proof that a celestial body other than earth had OTHER celestial bodies in orbit around it." She sighed in happy recollection. "That first time my mother showed me... that's when I knew I wanted to be an astronomer."

Hermann looked over at her and smiled. "And how old were you?"

Meche looked up in thought. "Eight or nine. That's when mom decided I was old enough to start accompanying her on stellar photography trips. It was awesome, I was able to stay up soooo late! When she helped me develop the first batch of photos we took together... my little mind was blown again! Stars! Everywhere!" She made flashing gestures with her hands and giggled. "But it was never as intense as seeing Galileo's four little moons for the first time."

Hermann laughed. "I am impressed at your childhood grasp of the historically significant!"

"Well... I'd just done a school report on him, so it was still fresh in my brain. But, yeah." She shrugged and looked at him fondly. "What about you?"

"Hmmm?" He was looking in the telescope again.

"What was your 'ah ha!' moment where you decided you wanted to study math and computer science?" 

Hermann cocked his head and considered. "I suppose it was when I was eight. I had always done well in maths, and my father was determined to mold me into a protégé. But I didn't really appreciate the subject until my piano teacher, Mr. Hawkins, gave me one of his old books."

"Piano, huh?"

Hermann grimaced slightly. "My father was determined to mold me into a lot of things. Piano was just another of his insistences."

Meche just nodded patiently.

Hermann continued. "Anyway, Mr. Hawkins gave me a book to read called _Godel, Escher, Back: An Eternal Golden Braid_. It, in your words, blew my mind. Math, computer science, consciousness, biology... it intertwined everything so beautifully and opened me up to thoughts of recursion... and thoughts about thought itself. It was how I first learned about the Turing Test, a concept of which I am particularly fond." _And my father wasn't_ , he added to himself.

"I imagine working on the Jaeger programming was a nice way to combine all those themes."

Hermann blinked, having not considered the thought. "Yes. You could definitely say that," he chuckled.

Meche smiled. "You'll have to let me borrow it sometime! Do you still have your copy?"

Hermann's face fell. "No," he said forlornly. "It was... lost in a fire at my parents' house when I was eighteen. I've never gotten around to replacing it."

Meche considered him for a few moments, then patted his arm, nodding at the telescope. "Hey, we have about another hour before they cycle the power back on to this side of the city. I've got some cool nebulae I want to show your before our darkness runs out!"

\-----------------------------------------------------------

A month after their arrival, the interns had been given the day off. It was time to write up their progress reports for Marshall Hansen, and neither Newt nor Hermann wanted their charges underfoot. Not that they had much, if anything, negative to say. To both the scientists' pleasant surprise, they had enjoyed the company and assistance of the new astrophysicist and biochemist.

They took a break for some lunch, chatting amiably about their report highlights.

Hermann stirred his bowl of tomato soup, waiting for it to cool. "Dr. de Leon is a most thorough researcher. She has excellent recall for facts, and better yet, the insight to apply them in creative new solutions. She is open to critique and is willing to work long hours when a project demands it."

"Well, that could just be coz she likes you," Newt snickered with his mouth full of tuna sandwich. Hermann rolled his eyes.

 

Newt stuck out his tongue. "Hey, I've got a cool intern, too! Tristan's got some killer ideas on an enzyme solution to cleaning up Kaiju Blue. And, he totally digs my old college band."

Hermann shook his head. "I honestly hope you're not including that bit in your official report."

"Why not? Check it out, he even made a little Wikipedia page for shits n' giggles. We've taken bets on how quickly it'll get shut down for not being "relevant" enough."

He grabbed his tablet. "Here, let's take a look and see if it's still up." He tapped out a web address in his browser. "You know, when I first met him, I thought I was gonna get stuck with a clone of you, but..."

Hermann shook his head once more and carefully began eating his soup.

"Huh, that's cool..."

"Hmmm?"

"My name now links to my own Wikipedia page!" He flicked his finger in quick succession on his tablet, scrolling through the page. "Woah, how long has this been here!" More flicking up and down as he scanned the article. "Ugh, girl name in this section, but whatever, I guess that's public record since I co-authored a few papers in my teen protégé years..."

Hermann flinched.

Newt continued to chatter excitedly. "But, still, this is totally awesome and, hey, look, all of us are here in the footer under a _'Kaiju Wars: PPDC: Hong Kong Shatterdome'_ section!"

"Newton, that's enough." Hermann said in a suddenly flat voice.

The biologist paid him no attention. "Heh, there's Herc, Mako, Raleigh... Awww, we'll have to create a page for Tendo, or he'll be hella pissed he got left out."

"Newton."

"And look, you're here, too! Let's click and see what Wikipedia has to say about-"

"NEWTON, I ASKED YOU TO **STOP**." Hermann grabbed the tablet out of the other man's hand.

Newt blinked. "If you break my tablet, I will fucking punch you in the face I am dead serious."

Hermann stared incomprehensively at Newt for a moment, then looked wild-eyed at the tablet in his hand, his arm poised to fling it across the room.

He carefully laid it face down next to him on the table with shaking hands. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Newt reached over and slid the tablet back towards him. "I kinda think I do." He dusted off the screen and clicked back to Wikipedia, which by now had finished loading Hermann's page. He read the intro silently to himself. Hermann fidgeted in the chair.

"Let me see."

"And have you chuck my tablet at the wall? Nuh-uh."

"Well, at least tell me what it says."

"It start off with, 'Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, parenthesis, born Van-"

"That's enough!" Hermann again reached for the tablet. Newt slid out of his chair and began walking to his side of the lab, still paging through the article. Hermann angrily grabbed his cane and followed.

"Dude, this has probably been up for a while, it isn't going to just go away."

"It's Wikipedia, I can edit it," Hermann snapped.

"And someone else can edit it right back. There are fucking CITATIONS of papers with your old name, that means OTHER WEBSITES have record of it. You're just gonna have to deal with the fact that people will figure out you're trans."

Hermann huffed. "There must be someone I can contact, no one needs to know I, I'm... " he trailed off.

Newt stared at Hermann from across the dissection table. "You can't even say it, can you?"

"What?"

Newt gave him a hard look.  "It's always been your 'condition', or 'burden', or some other convenient euphemism. Say it! Say that you're trans!"

"This is childish." Hermann slapped his hand loudly on the table top.

Newt shouted back, "You're damned right it is!"

"You never said a thing for ten years, why should I be the one to start?" Hermann sneered and shook his finger at the biologist.

"Because it's such a part of me, I barely even _think_ about it, while you treat it like a fucking disability! I swear to god, Hermann, I think you enjoy being an emotional cripple!"

Hermann was fully shouting now. "And I think you enjoy roping me into your no-shame 'rockstar' lifestyle! You have _no idea_ what my life has been like, my relationship with my family, my- my-"

He dimly noticed the edges of his vision were beginning to darken and realized he was suddenly gulping for breath.

Newt spoke up softly. "You _know_ I have plenty of idea, you dumbfuck. Hermann, you need to sit down."

Hermann nodded, visibly sweating now. "I need to sit down."

Newt guided Hermann to his personal task chair at the table, which had already been thoroughly cleaned for the day. The mathematician sat down heavily, leaning forward to lay his forehead on the table's cool metal surface.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on breathing slowly. As his ragged breaths began to smooth, he heard a hissing noise, followed by a pop, and cracked an eyelid open to see Newt place something down beside his cheek.

"A Coke?"

Newt nodded. "My mom would always give me a soda to sip on after I had an episode. Helped settle my stomach."

"This can is cold."

"You're welcome."

"Newton, the only refrigerator here is for your tissue samples."

"Which are totally kept on a completely different shelf." Newt smiled slightly. "Wanna guess what Kaiju body parts were sitting, two hours ago, where your face is right now?"

"I'm trying not to think about it." Hermann ignored the offering and closed his eyes again, lapsing into an awkward silence.

Newt looked at his friend for a little while, then spoke up. "You know, I confided in Tendo years ago and we're still buds. Mako knows, too, I'll have to tell you that story sometime... Which means chances are, so does Raleigh. I've always lived my life just assuming everyone knows, and if I'm outed, I'm outed, whatever. Makes it that much easier, ya know?"

Hermann sighed and lifted his head. "I wish I was as confident as you, Newton. I hate this. I'd consider telling people if I could control the time and the place, but I can't. Because once they know, chances are they'll have to at some point tell someone else. And so on. And I can't control that." He sounded absolutely miserable.

"Well, the internet kinda sorta knows, and you know how well controlling that works out for people. You might as well paint a target on your forehead."

Hermann crossed his arms on the table and put his head back down with a soft * _thunk_ *. He sat that way for a long time while Newt scooted over a chair. The biologist sat patiently next to him, fiddling with his tablet.

About fifteen minutes passed when Hermann spoke again in a muffled, trembling voice. "I'm trans, Newton. FTM. Born female. Transitioned when I was twenty-five."

"Yup. And you have brown eyes, funny hair, a bum leg, and crazy piano hands that make me jealous." He set the tablet aside and started to tick more items off his fingers. "You're skinny as fuck, don't drink nearly enough alcohol, and I still haven't figured out how your face works. And you also have a sharp wit, a brilliant mind, a good heart, and according to Meche, a cute laugh."

Hermann muttered something inaudible into the crook of his elbow. Then he lifted his head and turn to look at Newt. His eyes were red and puffy.

 "You know, of anyone, I guess I'm most nervous about how she'll find out and react. I've... enjoyed our relationship, even though I personally consider it nothing more than that of a mentor and student. I'm afraid how that may change." He sounded defeated.

 Newt smiled as he picked up the tablet again, waving it. "Oh, I wouldn't be too concerned about that. While you were recovering from your little freakout, I looked at your article's talk page and noticed Meche is the one who created the thing over a year ago. It's pretty impressive, you should really take a look at it! Every single paper you ever published, even down to undergrad, aka-your-old-name," he said this part very quickly in a faux cough, "is in there. You're right, she is a very thorough researcher - I think you've got, like, the best article of any of us, even Stacker!"

Hermann struggled to find words. He frowned then tentatively reached out to grab the still-waiting can of Cola. He took a small sip.

 "Congrats, man," Newt slapped Hermann on the back, almost causing him to spill the drink, "you've been out to her all this time and never even knew it!"

\-----------------------------------------------------------

"Dr. Gottlieb?" Meche quietly entered the lab, looking around.

Newt waved at her. "Hey, Meche! Didya have a good day off?"

She smiled. "Yes, it was nice to finally enjoy the city! Where is - "

Newt gestured behind his back with his thumb. "Oh, he stepped out in the back for minute to wash up. You know... all that chalk dust."

The intern nodded and sat down in her usual chair at the desk next to Hermann's. A few moments later, the mathematician emerged from a back washroom, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"Newton, I'm sorry if I - " Hermann froze when he saw Meche.

She beamed at him and stood up with a tiny bounce. "I'm so glad I found you before you retired for the night! I was in a bookstore today and thought of you when I saw this." She thrust a small paper bag at him, biting her lip nervously.

Hermann looked at her cautiously, and delicately took the bag. Newt tiptoed back to his side of the lab.

"I would have gotten it wrapped, but Tris wasn't feeling too well after dinner, so we came straight back home - you know how his stomach is, but he's determined to try to eat food that upsets him, anyway! You boys are the worst sometimes at taking care of yourselves..."

Hermann pulled out a book and tucked the empty bag under his arm. _'Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid_ ', by Douglas Hofstadter. He thumbed slowly through the pages.

"You sounded so sad when you told me how your old copy had been destroyed."

Hermann swallowed. "It's - it's perfect. But I don't see how I deserve -"

She batted him playfully on the arm. He resisted the urge to suddenly pull back from her touch. "Don't be silly! This has been an amazing first month! You've been so patient with me and I've learned more in my time here than my entire last year of school." She looked over Hermann's shoulder and grinned. "I see you hiding back there, Newt! Did you hear me? I called Dr. Gottlieb patient!"

Newt yelled back from behind one of the Kaiju tanks. "Nope, sorry, Meche, I can't make that out! I've got some Kaiju guts stuck in my ears!"

Meche laughed and looked at Hermann, again biting her lip, as if trying to decide something. Then she smiled and gave him a little wave. "I'll see you tomorrow, then, 8am sharp, since today was my slack day. Good night, both of you!" She turned swiftly on her heel and left.

Satisfied she was no longer in hearing range, Newt walked back over to Hermann, who was still idly flipping through the book.

"Seriously, dude. So into you."

Hermann scowled, chasing away the tiniest of smiles that had attempted to settle upon his face. "Newton, that's grossly inappropriate."

"Why?" Newt folded his arms in defiance.

Hermann sighed in exasperation. "For one, I'm her mentor. Two, it's just an infatuation -- I am thirteen years her senior."

Newt waited a beat. "Points for the first argument, but I'd dispute the validity of the second. But, that's it? No other reasons?" he rocked from side to side, now swinging his arms like a five-year-old who was just told a Big Secret.

"Did you not just hear what I said, Newton? Or do you still have Kaiju remains lodged against your ear drums?"

Newt laughed, "I hear you loud and clear, buddy. G'nite. It's getting late and it looks like you've got some reading to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godel Escher Bach is a fantastic book and you should totally read it.


End file.
